


The Moriarty and I

by Cherikella



Category: BBC Sherlock, MorMor - Fandom
Genre: Arguing, Criminal Network, Denial of Feelings, Emotionally Constipated People, Eventual Relationships, Falling In Love, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Moran second in command, Moriarty is a cold hearted machine without feelings but not really, Moriarty the boss, One Night Stand, POV Sebastian Moran, boss/employee, forming a friendship of sorts - Freeform, getting wounded, mormor, working together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:14:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherikella/pseuds/Cherikella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian Moran recalls what it was like working for James Moriarty, a cold-hearted criminal, psychopath, a man whose only attachment is to his Westwood suits... or is it? Who is the real Jim Moriarty and how Sebastian gets to know him better than anyone.<br/>The story follows Moran's experience with Moriarty from the very start, as told by Moran himself.<br/>Enjoy it :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear readers :)
> 
> I honestly have a very vague idea where this story is going but I intend to enjoy writing it so hopefully you'd enjoy reading it too.  
> Let me know if you have any thoughts about it. Post a comment, I'd love reading those! My boys and I want the attention so don't be shy ;)
> 
> Peace and love  
> Cherikella

"Interests?" Mr. Moriarty asked, not lifting his gaze from the screen of his laptop

"Guns, sex and cigarettes" I said

He finally did look at me for the first time in 15 minutes since this interview started. His eyes pierced through me, getting to my most inner soul, burning it as he did so. Yes, I can stand that gaze, I can! 

"Are you trying to impress me, Mr. Moran?" he finally asked 

"Is this impressive to you, boss?" I replied, looking as innocently as was possible to me. 

"I haven't hired you yet." he reminded me that I used the word 'boss' a bit too early in our conversation. 

I preferred to give no reply and keep quiet. I cannot afford to ruin another interview with my opinions. Although, screw them! I have opinions too, deal with it!

"I've seen you shoot already, I must say  _that_ impressed me." he continued once he realized I was not going to retrieve me calling him 'boss'. 

I nodded. I knew I was a great shot. No surprise there, Moriarty. No need to play modest either. I was good. There's nothing more to it than that. 

"The question is, can you follow orders?" his look appeared somewhat challenging now. As if he was expecting me to fail... or was it something else? Ugh! I haven't learned to read that man's face and expressions yet. It'd take some time with someone like him, I suppose.

"I can." I said firmly 

You were discharged from the army." 

There was no question there so I remained silent. 

"I'm acquainted with most of the details of that event..." 

Again, bloody nothing to say!

"Yet you say you can follow orders?" 

"I can follow the orders of my boss" I replied. 

I thought at least here my freaking dishonor won't be an issue. This guy was supposed to be a freaking criminal and now he's got a problem with me pissing off a few uniformed bastards!? Come on!

"You probably said that to your superiors in the army and yet..."

I couldn't stand it any longer. I snapped. Oh, how I snapped! I won't get into the details. What's important is that with an interview ending like  _that,_ I definitely didn't get the job. Again. All the repressed bitterness of my discharge, all the bitterness I ever had in me, and some of it I never knew I had in me, came out in the form of an eloquently put words that needed a lot of censorship. I'll spare you the speech I made. You're welcome. Bottom line is, after I was done, and during, Moriarty never once changed his facial expression. He was looking at me with those huge brown eyes, calm and composed as if I wasn't just spitting profanity at him. He never said anything, just looked as if trying to read my freaking mind! So I stormed out. I did! Somehow with his silence he made  _me_ feel like an idiot, he made  _me_ feel like the guy who just got yelled at. 

I didn't get the freaking sniper job. Well, screw you, Moriarty, with your suits and your perfect hair and your big brown eyes!

Pity, actually. Come to think of it, now, upon reflecting, I regret that a bit. I would have liked working for James Moriarty. I would have liked following  _his_ orders. Damn, I might even have enjoyed it a little. 

But it's all over now. And life goes on without Moriarty in it. 


	2. Getting Yourself a Live-In One

The days were passing slow... so slow... It was too boring to even complain! 

I had no friends. Most the guys I usually hang out with are still in the army and I don't want to see them anyway. 

It's been three days since my interview with Moriarty and I still thought about it. Roleplaying it in my head over and over again, thinking of different answers and different outcomes... At one point my 'boss' and I even ended up together on his desk... No, no! Stop thinking about it, Moran! It's over and you don't do regrets, you don't do 'thinking about stuff'. It wasn't such a great job anyways. It was too dangerous... and that's why I liked it! Ugh!

 

On the third day I realized I had no food left, I had no air left, my entire little tiny moldy flat had its own personal fog of cigarette smoke in it. I could not even see where the freaking remote control was! Eventually I got the hint and decided it was time to go out.

I was so mad at myself! Acting as if that blasted interview was some kind of a bad break up! It bloody wasn't! I'm just bored, that's all. And I miss shooting. People, targets, beer cans, anything! Just shooting! The feeling of aiming and finding the perfect angle, then pulling the trigger and hitting the target, it's almost sensual. And to be able to do that for a living, boy! I'd shoot anything and anyone he tells me! 

 

I went out. Smoking. Bored. Not even knowing where I was headed at. At some point I got the weird feeling someone was following me. Nah, can't be true! That'd mean something actually exciting was happening to me. I dismissed the thought. 

But then again... 

There were two of them. One in sunglasses ((at 8 pm, really? Are you a complete doofus!?)), the other, wearing a suspiciously large jacket, no doubt a gun or two hidden under it. 

Those idiots! They thought I won't notice!? It was plain as day they wanted to rob me. Wrong victim, boys, wrong victim! 

I made a quick turn to a dark alley. Yes, you'd say I should go to a big street with lots of people but I did the exact opposite. I'm the dangerous thing around here. 

When the doofus with the sunglasses followed me first, I took him down. The other one, the jacket one, ended up shot with his own gun. That'll teach them! 

Okay, time to go...

"Are you going to shoot me too, Mr. Moran?" a familiar voice came from behind me.

"Moriarty..." I whispered

"So much anger and all of it in the wrong direction" he continued, slowly coming closer, his eyes observing the two bodies on the ground. "Dead?"

"...ish..." I shrugged

"So I need to hire them replacements now" he sighed as if that was obviously the biggest downside of this occurrence. "Hudson is only stunned and Blair is badly wounded." he continued "You didn't kill them."

Now his eyes were once again pierced on me. I wasn't quite sure what he expected of me so I just stood there.

"Kill. Them." he mouthed.

They say soldiers have an inbred mechanism for following orders in them. I don't know if that's true or not but at that moment when he gave his order in this dark alley, looking at me as if he was challenging me, talking to me as if he owned me, I did as he said. I didn't even think. I took the gun and shot both of those strangers, not even knowing why.

"Now take me home" Mr. Moriarty said and turned around to leave the alley.

"But the bodies...?"

"Home!"

"Yes, boss"

I asked him years ago why did he just kill those two for no reason. Was it for fun? Was he testing me? He always smiled and said: "They were traitors and you're worth million men, Sebby." He never told me more about it but I suppose I didn't really ask that often anyway.


	3. Tick-Tock Goes the Clock

It's been two weeks since I started working for Jim Moriarty. And so far I had exactly zero jobs. This was frustrating! So frustrating! I came to shoot, to feel the danger of the work, to finally get some glimpse of excitement. Instead all I got was... "Did you do the laundry, Moran?", "Don't forget to pick my suit from the dry cleaning", "Did I turn off the oven? I think I did... But maybe I didn't... Go check." Once he even sent me to get him cat food. Freaking cat food! THE GUY DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A CAT!

 

I was his personal maid or butler or something and I could only stand this for about two weeks before I explode again, I just know it!

 

It was late afternoon and he was lying lazily on the couch at his flat, his laptop tossed on the side. He was rubbing his eyes and yawning, probably tired of all the typing he did since the morning! Ugh! He's driving me crazy!

"Moran?" he cooed

"Yes, boss?" I showed up at once like a good dog

"What time is it?" he asked

"There's a clock on your phone and on your laptop, also one on the wall if you'd just turn your head a bit to the right" I said, maybe a little more cheekily than necessary.

This calm, small smile that I despised so much played on his lips once again. "But I'm asking yoooou" he said

What a child!

"It's almost six o'clock, boss." I said. What else was I supposed to do?

His arm was on his eyes to keep the little light that was left in the room away. "Morning or afternoon?" he asked,

You gotta be kidding me!

"Guess!" I snapped

Another little smile. Was he toying with me!?

"I would but that's not what I'm paying you foooor" he sing-songed

"No, actually, it isn't. And this isn't what you're paying me for either! If you wanted a nanny, you should've kept the one your rich parents got for you!"

 

No reply. Nothing. Nothing but a creepy deadly silence like he was a bl%dy corpse!

 

"What do you know about my parents?" he finally said, and his whisper made him look even more creepy. I've no idea why.

"Well, I-- I don't--" I realized I may have spoken out of line there. Truth be told, I had no idea what his parents or his relationship with them was at all.

"What DO you know about MY PARENTS!?" he all but screamed at me, jumping from the couch as vibrantly as a cat

"Nothing, boss." I murmured, hanging my head down like a guilty child. Damn, his method was working on me. He was actually _house training_ me _._

He laid back on the couch again. "Exactly." he exhaled rather loudly "You know _nothing_!"

 

He wasn't gonna scare or manipulate me like he does with all other people he talks to! I won't let _that_ happen! I'm not _everybody_!

Nevertheless, I decided to leave the serious chat about my duties for some other time. I wasn't in a mood for discussions anyway!

And the time for the discussion came sooner than I thought!

"Moran?" he said sharply the next day

"Yes, boss?" 

He looked at me as if his eyes were saying 'Aren't you a good little soldier!'

"Get your guns ready. Tomorrow we're going 'hunting'." 

And there you go! A job! An actual one! Finally!


	4. Hunters

I couldn't sleep that night. The anticipation to  _finally_ shoot someone was keeping me awake. The excitement was creeping its way back to my heart and I could feel my blood rising.  _I was finally alive again!_

 **_"Get your guns ready. Tomorrow we're going 'hunting'."_ **

He said that so naturally, with such a sublime ease, it was poetry. It was impressive. I was impressed and not ashamed to admit it!

With these thoughts in my head I finally managed to nap for two hours before dawn, guns cleaned, ready and prepared to be used.

 **_"Get your guns ready. Tomorrow we're going 'hunting'."_ ** _..._

 _Today,_ I whispered to myself in the morning,  _today we're going hunting!_

Hunting, he said! He wasn't joking alright... He actually took me hunting.  _Hunting!_ As in hunting for  _animals!_ Not a euphemism for murdering humans. Damn! He was still keeping me away from the action, away from the fun part! But it was far more than that. It was a matter of trust.  _Moriarty didn't trust me._ For some strange reason that thought affected me more than I could ever expect. It was hurting me.

Instead of giving me a proper job, we were close to some woods and I was frowning at the sun that was blinding me. There was literally no shade before entering the forest and Moriarty insisted we stay here for a few minutes.  _  
_

_I hope you burn to death in the sun, you freaking vampire!_ I thought, biting at my nails angrily.

"How's your package?" Jim asked suddenly. 

I thought I didn't hear right so I furrowed my brow, trying to look at him despite the bright sunlight. "Excuse me?" I asked. 

"Your guns, you imbecile!" He sighed in exasperation. 

"Oh... The package's okay." I replied.

Everything here was so stupid! I was still the nanny, or the butler, or the devil knows what!

"Have you ever been hunting before, Moran?" Moriarty asked suddenly as we were walking deeper in the woods.

I raised an eyebrow at him again. "I've killed people, boss." I said.  

"Killing people and killing animals are two different things." he said, ignoring my obvious displeasure in being here at all. "Maybe you killed your enemies, people you knew deserved it; but are you actually capable of shooting an animal, innocent animal that does not harm on purpose? Could you attack such an animal for no reason whatsoever." 

I was silent. Thinking. What was he expecting of me? 

"A month ago you ordered me to shoot two of your men for no reason." I reminded him "Pray tell me, what's the difference?" 

He chuckled, still looking ahead and not at me. "Are you worried about my feelings, Moran? That's real sweet." 

His voice sounded like a mockery. He was making me furious. Mostly because I was dying to show him what I can do and he won't even give me the chance to impress him! Why did I want to impress him, I had no idea. I just did.

"Boss, why do you treat me like your butler?" I blurted out without thinking. 

"Why you just answered your own question, Moran." he said amused and I looked at him with such confusion that he took a few steps towards me and whispered in my ear "Because I'm your boss." 

With that he pulled away and chuckled at me as he walked deeper in the woods. 

===

We ended up killing nothing that day. Although I was close to shooting a dear, a beautiful specimen. I was all prepared when suddenly my boss' hand wrapped around my gun and stopped me from firing. 

"Don't kill the beautiful animal, Moran." he drawled 

"I thought that's what we were here for..." I mumbled

"We're here hunting for a real animal." my boss continued, looking away. "He'll be here any minute. His name is Morstan and I want you to shoot him." 

I blinked a few times. 

"Anything the matter, sniper?" Moriarty asked a bit annoyed 

"Nothing, boss!" I said, trying to hide my enormous enthusiasm that he's finally giving me a real job. 

"Good." my boss said, although it was more than clear that he knew exactly what was going on in my head. "Any moment Morstan will come to shoot that dear there, save the dear, Moran. And let me know how it goes. I'll wait in the car." 

And so it began! My first real job for Moriarty! We went hunting after all!

 


	5. When the Moriarty Gets Bored Stay Away

My first shoot was all I wanted it to be. The adrenaline, the blood pumping in my veins, the long intense moment before I pull the trigger, the feeling of satisfaction when I hit my target... It was bliss... It was what I needed...

  
I do realize how perverted this was. In a way. But years in the army, being trained to kill, being promoted for taking lives... that leaves a trace. And blame me all you want but I liked it! I liked that I hunted this man down as if he was one of the animals he was hunting himself. I liked that I showed him what it was like for all his innocent victims. I liked the control. I liked the power. I liked the order. I got to say when he'd stop killing. I got to say when we all had enough.

Of course that was a delusion. In reality I said nothing at all. It was Jim Moriarty who gave the order, it was Jim Moriarty who made the decision. Heck, it was even Jim Moriarty with his 'save the dear' line that made me feel so noble the moment I pulled that trigger and the bullet hit the guy's head. Power? Control?That was not me with the power or the control, no matter what I felt; it was Moriarty with the power and the control. It all came from Moriarty, gently pulling the strings. I was an insect, captured in his web. He pulled a thread and I played the way he wanted me to... it was just a matter of time he decides he's tired of me and consumes me with no mercy... And I surrendered to his will like I was in church and he was my new god.

Years later when I confessed those emotions to him, he laughed in my face, saying I was a hopeless romantic... But there was indeed something hypnotic about Moriarty... And I was ready to surrender to it. Even though at the time I could not even imagine what exactly I was giving into. 

  
"It's done." I told him, loading my guns back in the car. Moriarty lifted his gaze from his phone and nodded

"Take me home then." he said deadly calm.

That was all. He did not seem impressed or pleased that the bastard he wanted dead was dead. I expected some kind of reaction from him. Not necessarily a pat on the shoulder but at least a word of... appreciation of some kind? Maybe one simple 'good.' A word to acknowledge that I had done indeed what he asked of me. Some kind of feedback on weather or not he was satisfied with my work. But instead there was only silence.

I got into the car and started the engine, wordlessly, following the example of my boss.

He did not speak for the rest of the trip, his fingers flying on his phone's keyboard, brown eyes fixed upon the phone. For a moment I thought something happened to ruin his good spirits from earlier today but then I just decided that he's a d!ck and I should stop obsessing with his weird moods.  
We went home. 

He took his shoes off, eyes still fixed on that bl%dy phone. 

"Bring cat food." he said on his way to the bathroom. 

I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. I just wanted to scream  _what cat_ _!?_ But another part of me was so pleased that I finally got to do what I came here for. So eventually this other satisfied part took over and I just shrugged and went out to get the cat food my boss - my criminal mastermind boss with an underground network and hundreds of assassins working for him - wanted to have in his drawers for some reason. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was cleaning my guns when my boss suddenly got out of his room where he spent the entire morning after breakfast. I looked up ready for orders but he only waved his hand dismissively and went to make himself a sandwich. 

I must admit I was relieved that he no longer asked me to do that for him. Now he used to get his own food for himself and I was only there as a sniper/bodyguard which was a good thing really. Because, duh, that's what I was hired to do! 

I continued with the maintenance of my guns when he sat down next to me on the couch, staring and chewing his sandwich. 

"You take care of your own equipment? Good to know." he said

I frowned. Well, yes, of course I was. What kind of question was that? I was a professional, what did he expect?

I looked up at him puzzled when I noticed that he was looking at me with a funny face that looked a lot like amusement. Was he teasing me!? 

I decided to play it safe.

"Pardon?" I asked

"I was talking about your guns, Moran." he said

"Yes, sir." I nodded "I do my maintenance by myself." 

"Doesn't sound like much fun." he shrugged and took another bite of his sandwich, leaving crumbs all over the place. 

I frowned. Some of them fell on my guns and that really was ridiculous. I just cleaned them! He saw me cleaning them! He should be more careful!

I looked at him again, demonstratively removing the crumbs from my guns in hope that Moriarty would get the hint. But the man was either an idiot or was really devoted to pretending to be one because all he did was making even more crumbs. 

I sighed and got up to bring him a plate. By the time I got back from the kitchen he was playing with one of my riffles. 

I felt anger rising up in my chest!  _No touchy!_ my head was screaming. 

"Here's a plate, sir" I said, practically shoving the plate under his nose

"I don't want it." he drawled

I pursed my lips. There he was on the sofa, a sandwich in one hand and my recently cleaned riffle in the other. That was just reckless of him! My riffles and guns were like my children - odd as the comparison may sound. They needed care and attention and all he was giving them were crumbs!

"You're holding it wrong!" I blurted out before I could help myself

He lifted his gaze from the gun and now a pair of brown bored eyes were blinking at me. "What did you say?" he asked, voice deceptively calm. 

I swallowed, realizing that my remark was probably not the wisest of things I could've said. 

"You should be more careful when holding a riffle, sir." I explained "It could bl--"

He cut me off. "Do you not like your riffle in my hands, Moran? Am I not worthy of touching your equipment?" he arched an eyebrow.  

Heat came to my face at the double meaning of his words. I was confused. He seemed to enjoy it. Damn, that man was really bored and at those times he really knew no limits.  

"What are you thinking, sniper-boy?" he asked

"That you must be careful not to hurt yourself, sir" I said

"Oh, such loyalty!" he chuckled for a second and then his face was deadly serious "I know what I'm doing, Moran." 

"Yes, sir."

"I can break it if I wanted to." he continued, dismantaling it piece by piece

My eyes went wide. "Sir!" 

"You love your stupid toy guns more than you'd care for a person." he laughed amused, throwing the pieces on the floor

"Would you please stop?" I was trying my best to keep my temper under control. 

"Whyyyyy?" 

"You'll break it!" 

"Soooo?" 

"I don't want you to break it!"

He rolled his eyes and laughed a bit. He really was enjoying getting on my nerves. 

"Why would I care what you want?" he drawled 

"Because! I get it you're bored but there's no need for you to be a pain in the ass!" 

It was too late. I had just said that to my boss. The boss that kills people for a living. Great. It was nice being alive. Goodbye, cruel world.

 

He looked at me for a couple of more minutes until finally putting the riffle down and letting out a loud breath. 

"I didn't mean--" I mumbled 

"Am I a pain in the ass, Moran?" he asked deceptively calm again 

I started shaking my head no but he only laughed. 

"I know I am. I can be a huge pain in the ass." for some reason he kept finding that amusing. It made my blood go ice cold. "Do you want me to be a pain in  _your_ ass?" 

"Maybe I didn't use the right words..." I started. 

"Whatever. I'm bored now." he waved his empty hand dismissively and got up from the couch. 

"Umm..." 

"Clean all those guns from my living room, will you?" he said on his way back to his own room. 

I nodded although he had his back turned on me so it was pretty much a pointless thing to do. 

"It's so boring in here." he said, running a hand through his face and closing the door behind himself

I blinked a few times, confused. What was I supposed to do? Cheer him up? How could I possibly cheer him up!? Was this even part of my duties? No. No, it wasn't. But with Jim Moriarty you always had to be alert. 


	6. Teamwork

Our days became pretty well scheduled and we kinda started working like a well-oiled machine as they say. It was strange how well we turned out to work as a team. Well, I say  _team_ but it was more like him giving the orders and me following them brilliantly. I wasn't making the actual decisions, naturally, so it was hardly a team effort but he did give me considerably more freedom than any of his other employees. At one point I realized he had started asking me for my opinion, my advice. He did it so subtly, it took me several months to catch up and actually understand that that's what he was doing. But once I caught on this, I could see it clearly. The way he'd scroll down some plans on his laptop while asking me casually about what I think for a specific case, would I trust a certain person, what would I do in this or that situation. I never felt restricted about saying what I really think,  _he_ never let me feel restricted to speak up my mind about such things. So whenever he'd ask, I'd answer. Then he'd just continue scrolling down his laptop or tapping something on his phone, not even looking at me and the whole conversation would be forgotten. But a few days later I'd receive orders that seem surprisingly similar to what I had advised earlier. Some were obviously inspired by my thoughts, others were more like a modified version of my advice. Either ways I could see how Moriarty valued my opinion even though he never spoke it in a straightforward manner. And for some reason that made me feel really appreciated. 

Why was this so important to me? I had no idea. I never cared for anyone's appreciation before, not since my mother died. Why was pleasing James freaking Moriarty suddenly so vital for me, I really couldn't tell. But it was. 

Being interested in my opinion was apparently stage one for Moriarty. Stage two seemed to be even more remarkable. Several months after I realized he was asking for my opinions, something else happened. He actually stopped giving me orders that precise. Now, with Moriarty it was him giving distinct orders, detailed orders of what his employees - men and women - should do. They had to follow these orders to the T because if they didn't, he'd be very displeased. And having a displeased Moriarty around was deadly. Everybody working for him knew that. So imagine my astonishment when one time he just sends me off to a mission and the only order I get is an explanation of what Moriarty's goal is and a carte blanche to achieve it in _'whatever way I see suitable'_. 

"Sorry, what?" I stuttered. I thought he was joking with me or something. He had at one point started doing that too so I wasn't quite so sure what was happening now. 

He looked up with those bored eyes and drawled "What did not you not get? I told you what I want, now you go and figure out how to do it." 

He didn't seem in a mood for any further discussions so I just did as he told me. During the job I just followed my instinct and my own reason. Moriarty gave no feedback on what he thought about my methods but he did not order my assassination so I suppose he wasn't completely disappointed. 

So maybe this was a one-time thing. Maybe he was too tired to think himself so he just wanted this case over with. Or maybe this wasn't that important to him and his business and that's why he let me deal with it. Or maybe it was some kind of weird test. The possibilities were endless and you could not really get in Moriarty's head to find out what his motives were for doing something. So I gave up trying to figure it out and I just forgot about this. 

Until he did it again! 

Soon it became a sort of a tradition among us two. He'd tell me what the goal is and then I was free to come up with the exact way I wanted it done. He never questioned my methods, he never criticized, only observed the results. It made me feel like I was more than just a pair of eyes and a hand to shoot, not just a gun to which Moriarty pulled the trigger, not anymore. Now I was a person who carried on operations - some of them pretty big - the way I wanted and not even my boss would interfere or stop me from doing things my way. 

Needless to say I was thrilled and begin to love my job even more! I discovered new things about myself and what I could do. I found out I was not just a dog that followed whoever fed him. I was a free thinking being, choosing to invest his loyalty in James Moriarty. Not a soldier following orders but a second in command! And I was enjoying that! 

 

One fine evening we returned to Moriarty's primary flat where we were staying now from a long and hard day of work. Moriarty, as was his habit, went straight to the bathroom for a shower and I had to wait for him to take mine. He took extremely long showers and the bathroom was always ridiculously steamy after he went out. Like a sauna and not a bathroom at all. Sometimes I was really surprised he never passed out in that bathroom with all that steam. 

I was in the kitchen, drinking a beer and waiting when my boss casually walked out of the bathroom in a towel, wrapped around his waist. That was unusual for him - usually even at home he was always dressed. I must admit my eyes only lingered for a moment but I managed to avert them on time. What? My boss was kinda my type, turns out. Well, at least physically. I could never feel any emotional connection to someone like that. Of course, not. James Moriarty was the most emotionally unavailable person in the universe, and I was occupying the second place. There was no place for emotions in our line of work. And even if there was, I doubt he was capable of feeling any. 

Moriarty opened the fridge to get some ice cold water and drank straight from the bottle. His half-nudity obviously did not bother him so I just rolled my eyes at myself wondering why should it be bothering me? 

"You did a good job today." I heard his drawl as he put the bottle back in the fridge and stood there, his hand resting on the open door. 

"Mmm?" I tried to concentrate on the  _words_

"I'm not too generous with my compliments, Moran. It'd be nice if you hear them the first time." he replied

"Oh. Thank you, sir." I said "Just doing my job." 

He chuckled and finally closed the damn door. "No, that wasn't just you _'doing your job'_." he said, sitting down on the chair opposite mine. "You wanted to _impress_ me, Moran." 

I looked at his face. There was a sly smile, creeping on his lips. 

I frowned confused. "I wanted to do my job well." I said because obviously that was the truth! I didn't need Jim freaking Moriarty's praise to know I'm good at what I do. And he never stopped me from doing it which means he also knew how good I was at what I do. 

"I should probably reward you so that you learn to do that again and not start slacking suddenly." he said, thoughtfully 

I frowned, not exactly appreciating the fact that he was suddenly reducing me to a dog that needed training. Not after what a great duo we turned out to be! True, a boss and a sniper but basically I was his second in command and he did trust me with things he'd usually trust only himself with. We were a boss and his sniper but when we were out there, working, I felt like we were equals. 

"I hardly doubt you'd need positive reinforcement to make me do my job, sir." I said, staring back, just a hint of a chuckle on my face

Moriarty was actually returning this same chuckle as he sat down, lazily propping his head on his hand. 

"Oh, yeah? What would you need then?" he asked 

"Just the beer and a good rest is enough." I replied. It really kind of was. 

Moriarty was silent for a moment, considering something. 

"A night off it is then." he said 

"Good. Thanks." I replied 

He got up with a sigh. "Well, off you go then. Have fun." 

Something didn't feel quite right about this and I heard myself asking "What about you? What are you doing tonight?" 

He stopped and faced me again. "The usual." he replied "Don't worry, no one's going to kill me while you're out." 

"Hmm, can't risk that." I said, getting up and putting the beer can away in the trash. I knew Moriarty was really particular about the flat being clean and tidy. It was one of his weird obsessions. "You should come with me, boss." 

He frowned "Where exactly? To a bar?" he let out a small laughter "Not really my thing, you know that." 

"Exactly. You work all the time. The only time I've seen you relax is when you put on that blasted music of yours." I said, speaking to him as something close to a friend rather than as a sniper. If he disapproved he could always tell me to stop. But he didn't. He listened and it seemed like he was actually considering my words.

"Why would a bar be a good way to rest?" he asked confused. 

It was adorable. I grinned. 

"You know, there's music, there's alcohol, there's women, or men or both or whichever you prefer." I listed the things that I liked about my bar. But they somehow didn't get through to Moriarty. At least that's the impression I got from his confused expression. "Fine. Just come and try to relax and forget stressing for a while, okay? If you don't like it, we'll get back home, I promise." 

He pursed his lips, thinking. 

"Please, boss?" 

He looked up at me again and then I saw him nod. "Alright. Just let me put on a suit..." 

I laughed "No suit on your night off!" I insisted. "We're just going there as two buddies." 

"You consider yourself my buddy, Moran?" he raised an eyebrow sarcastically but still amused 

"Not really but we could pretend, right? It'd be fun! For one night. It'd be my night off as well as yours." 

"Sounds logical to me." he agreed. 

"Good!" I grinned and went to get him the kind of clothes I thought he'd look good in during his night off. "And hopefully by the end of the evening you stop thinking about  _what's logical_ and just freaking have fun!" 

"I have plenty of fun." he protested as he followed me. 

"I meant the type of fun that does not include holding a beating heart in your palm." 

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "You're exaggerating. I've never held a beating human heart in my palm." he said but took the clothes I handed him without a protest. "Good choice." he said, looking at them "I'm a surprisingly good actor. I can pretend I enjoy this little outing." 

"Fake it till you make it, boss." I grinned and let him change his clothes in peace, waiting for him outside. 

 


	7. The Night Before

I woke up with a terrible headache but feeling surprisingly happy and refreshed. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, stretched and then checked the time on my phone. F*ck! I overslept!

And James... my boss... didn't wake me up by now? No messages, no calls? Was he that mad? Or maybe still asleep. Perhaps he was perhaps just as hang over as I was. The mere thought made me chuckle. Jim Moriarty drunk must be some sight! I felt like an idiot for not remembering seeing that remarkable sight! That man never undone, always in control... yes, I definitely wanted to see him losing control. 

No such luck though, the last thing I remembered was that we drank and I said something that he found amusing and he smiled at me and then I had to drink some more and that was it. The rest was blank. 

 

I stayed in bed for a while longer, enjoying the strangely blissful feeling that overwhelmed me today. I thought I deserved some rest after all and Moriarty would let me know if he needed me. After all I did drink the better half of a bar for him last night! The least he could do is let me have this day off.

I stretched and yawned and basically spent the whole day lazying around. Eventually though I realized I had started checking my phone every 10 minutes. It was weird. And then I realized that I was actually expecting him to call and yell at me for slacking. Any moment now. He's gonna call and shout at me for not showing up at work. 

I got my phone again but it was still silent. That was really odd. I frowned and quietly checked his bedroom but it was empty, the bed untouched as if he never got there.

I tried to suppress the bad feeling of worry and dread that was suddenly rising in my stomach. I went back to my own bedroom and sat up in my bed, frowning and staring at the wall like an idiot.

Why the hell wasn't he yelling at me yet!? I'm here lazying around after a whole night of drinking like a lash - which he _hated,_ by the way, - when he was probably already dressed in his proper suit with his shiny shoes and his perfect hair, ready to give orders and be all bossy and creepy. Damn him! Why wasn't he yelling at me yet!? I'm supposed to be protecting him and shooting and beating people for him! 

Where the hell was he even!? 

Finally around 7 pm I could no longer take it and I sent him a text. 

_Boss, do you need me? Do I have to off someone for you? -SM_

Hopefully, that was casual enough to prevent him from detecting my nervousness and how worried I actually was about him. At the time I didn't dare admitting to myself that I was  _truly_ worried about him, and not only because it was my job to protect him. 

I waited by my phone for his reply. I f*cking waited for his reply till 4 am! My phone was silent the entire evening, and the night was no different. There was no sign of Moriarty texting or calling back. It was almost 5 am and still no sign of him. I was determined to go looking for him, worried that I might be too late by now, when my phone finally buzzed. 

It was a text from  _him!_

**Let me know when you're awake. -JM**

That was all. Nothing more. No yelling, no shouting, no teasing, no threats. I frowned at this rather impersonal message. But then this huge relief that he's alive and well came over me and sleep deprivation took over. I felt my eyes were closing on their own and my body relaxed. I was asleep before I knew. 

===

When I opened my eyes I saw it was already 10 am. I remembered the text and how worried I was before and grabbed my phone again. 

_Awake. -SM_

It was a warning that I was going to get dressed and come out to talk to him but it was hardly a minute since I sent the text when my door flung open and Jim Moriarty entered my room. He was particularly pale this morning which struck me as odd and his eyes looked really tired, like he hasn't slept much recently. 

"Boss!" I exclaimed, suddenly aware that I was still in my bed. 

He froze, one hand still on the door handle, staring at me, his jaw dropping a bit as if finding me in my bedroom was a freaking surprise. He hesitated for a moment and then finally spoke.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were dressed..." he said quietly 

I frowned and looked down. I was topless and under the sheets with just my boxers on. Hardly that big a fuss surely! What was his problem with my partial nudity? It's not like I was flashing him with a full frontal!

"Oh, it's fine, don't worry." I waved my hand dismissively and unwrapped myself from the sheets getting up to pick up my clothes if it was so undignified that he couldn't take it. 

His voice sounded kind of weird when he spoke again. 

"I just had to ask..." he said and cut himself off. 

Seriously, what was with him!? 

"Yeah?" I said with my most encouraging expression 

He cleared his throat. "You still want to work for me?" he asked 

The question caught me off guard. That was really unexpected. Why would he even ask that!? 

"Yeah." I replied honestly. Was he trying to fire me? "Why?" 

Moriarty frowned a bit and I got even more curious now. 

"Don't you remember what happened?" he asked confused. "Last night, I mean. Don't you remember what happened last night?" 

I blinked at him. "We went out for a drink and we got drunk, I guess?" 

"And?" 

"And...?" 

"You don't remember a thing?" he asked again 

I was getting frustrated with that. "Apparently not" I said

"Oh." suddenly he seemed relieved "Never mind then. Keep shooting people for me, Moran." he said and turned his back to me. 

There he was - the Moriarty I knew! But I couldn't let him outsmart me this time. My curiosity had to be quenched now! 

"What happened last night?" I insisted 

Jim stilled for a moment and quickly, far too quickly, he blurted out a quick "Nothing at all. Forget I mentioned it." 

Oh, no he won't! I needed, deserved!, to know what was going on in here. There was obviously  _something._

"Boss, what happened?" I asked almost sternly 

He let out a breath and hesitated some more. "It's just... we bonded and it was weird, that's all." 

I raised an eyebrow. Was he serious?

"Bonded?" I repeated, a slight teasing in my voice. 

That was enough to make Moriarty lose his patience. "Open a dictionary! I'm not discussing this any longer, Moran."  

"I know what bonded means, for f*cks sake!" I blurted out "I want to know what you mean by _'we bonded_ _'_ and why I wouldn't want to work for you." 

Moriarty looked surprisingly small and unsure of himself right now. It was really hard to recognize the intimidating figure he usually was. That made me feel uneasy too. What could have possibly happened last night!?

"Our conversation got really personal and I thought--" he sounded like a schoolboy that was nervous to speak in front of the class. "--I thought you wouldn't want to work for me anymore..." 

That still made no sense at all to me. "Why!? What on earth could we have said to make you think that? I love my job!" 

I really did! And I still couldn't come up with a single thing that once spoken could change my desire to work for Moriarty. 

"Yes, you love your job. You said so like a million times." Moriarty said, slowly looking more like himself now "Can we consider this whole thing forgotten now and move on from this awkward conversation?" 

But that option wasn't good enough for me. I crossed my arms on my chest and looked at him sternly. "I'd still quite like to know what you said." 

He rolled his eyes. "I said it was awkward." he hissed "You want to make it even more awkward by repeating it again now when we're both sober?" 

"Yes!" I blurted out impatiently. Again. And then added to at least sound more respectful "Please?" 

He looked at me for a long moment - at least to me it seemed like we were staring at each other for an eternity - and then he finally spoke. 

"I say it now and we never mention it again?" he asked, that same unfamiliar vulnerability creeping into his behaviour. 

"Sure." I quickly agreed. I just wanted to hear what it was. I already had cursed myself like a gazillion times for not remembering! It seemed like something important to him. 

Moriarty pursed his lips and then licked them before speaking. "I told you I was demisexual and that I was attracted to you." he said. 

Had a piano fallen right on top my head at that moment, I still would not have noticed. 

"Oh. And umm..." I finally realized that I had to reply after all. "What did I say about it last night?" I asked 

"You kissed me..." he replied

Yeah, that sounded like something I'd do. 

"And I don't remember? F*ck!" I heard slipping out of my mouth "I mean, I'm sorry..."

"Well, it's all in the past now. We were both drunk so we did something stupid, that's all." Moriarty said, trying to sound casual and unbothered 

I frowned. "What else happened last night? Will you please tell me everything that happened?" 

He looked at me, straight in the eyes and then a smile showed on his face. "There's nothing else to tell." he said calmly "We got in a taxi... we got up to our flat... you fell clumsy that you are and I helped you to your bed. And that's it." 

I blinked a few times. It didn't exactly sound like me. 

"Are you sure that's all?" I asked "Are you sure you're not forgetting something too?" 

"Whatever do you mean?" he frowned

"Well...  _things_ might have happened..." 

"No, nothing like that at all, Moran." he cut me off quickly "It was just a kiss, we were drunk and you don't even remember it so if we can move on from this, good. If not, I won't try to kill you if you decide to leave." 

I swallowed. "Of course we can move on from it." I nodded "We're grown men, we can be mature about a little kiss." 

Moriarty nodded. "Mhm. Very mature about a tiny little kiss." 

I nodded as well. 

"You promised to forget about this." he reminded me. 

"Yes." I said hurriedly, not wanting to prolong this awkwardness "Yes, I did. I remember. It's forgotten."

"Good." he nodded again. "Well, if that's cleared out then, I'll go get some breakfast and we can be in the office by noon." he said, heading towards the door. "Alright?" 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good with this." I nodded and pretended I wasn't freaking out on the inside. 

He gave a small unreadable smile and left.

As soon as I was alone in my room, I frowned again. Something didn't quite add up. Having James Moriarty telling me he's only attracted to a selected few and I was one of these lucky bastards and me just giving him a tiny little kiss and then falling asleep without at least trying to get on top of him? Nope. It didn't sound like me at all!


	8. Can't Chill With Moriarty

After Moriarty's strange visit and this unusual conversation, I got pretty obsessed with the desire to remember what happened that night. So I kept thinking and trying to stir my memory, to find something to remind me what happened the night before. No such luck. 

We went to work together. As usual I was driving and Jim was on the passenger seat because he got dizzy if he was on the back seat. We were both peculiarly silent during the drive. As were we for the rest of the day. I didn't have to have Jim Moriarty's IQ to be able to tell that there was some unspoken tension between us. 

I decided to be brave and get the bull by the horns. 

"Boss" I started, perfectly aware that I was playing with fire there. "I know we said we'd never mention this again but... about the attraction thing..." 

He glared. "Moran, you  _promised"_

"Yes, I know, and I'm still keeping this promise, but I just need to know. Don't you want to act upon this...?" 

That was even more awkward than this morning! But we had to have it out in the open, we needed to talk about this. 

"No, Moran, I do not intend to act upon it." he said. 

Now, years later, I can finally admit that I was really disappointed to hear him say this that day. 

"Oh..." was all that I heard coming out of my mouth "But why?"

"You're my employee, it's not right." he said simply

"We kill people for a living" I frowned. Did he really not see how ridiculous his reason was. 

Moriarty furrowed his brow. "We actually work quite well together, as you've probably noticed." he spoke again, calmly, as if he was making an analysis "I wouldn't want to ruin this efficient clockwork mechanism that we created for a few passing moments of pleasure." 

I was about to say I could give him much  _more_ than a few moments of pleasure when he looked up at me and I guess he read something in my face that made him groan my name. 

"Sebastian..." he sighed, closing his eyes, already tired from this conversation

But this sound stirred something in my memory. Him saying my name! I've heard him whisper it before! When? Where? It triggered something and suddenly it hit me! Everything that happened last night came back in just a few seconds. 

 

_-Flashback-_

_We were in the bar, had had a few drinks already. It was loud with lots of people around and Moriarty had frowned a few times but still hadn't made me take him back home. I went to the bathroom and when I returned I saw him talking to some guy that was grinning at him widely. Call me whatever you want but I got annoyed at this. It was our night off and I wasn't blowing it on picking up strangers. I got back to our seats quickly and glared at the guy until he finally got the hint and left._

_"Did I interrupt something?" I asked Moriarty when it was just the two of us again._

_"What could you have possibly interrupted?" he sighed and drank some more._

_"That guy seemed to like you." I nudged him_

_He looked at the direction of the guy, his reactions slowed down by the_ _alcohol. He laughed "What? No. He was talking to me about movies."_

_I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"_

_Moriarty nodded "Yeah." he said "He asked me to Netflix and chill."_

_I spit my drink._

_"He asked you that?"_

_Moriarty nodded. "Yeah. Why? W_ _hat does Netflix and chill mean?"_

_"Really, boss? It means sex."_

_He laughed, finding it even more amusing now, it would seem. "In what universe could that possibly mean sex!?" he asked_

_"Everyone else's except yours?" I replied_

_"Don't be cheeky now!" he raised a finger as if he was my nanny or something. Then he frowned "_ _So I was just asked for sex by a stranger?"_

_"So it would seem" I said, surprised that he had such a hard time accepting that guys would do that when they see him. Hell, I'd do this if... yeah, well, if he wasn't my boss and all._

_"Ugh!" he huffed, the idea seemingly disgusting to him_

_"Oh, come on! Can't be that bad" I tapped him on the shoulder. His eyes followed the motion and he looked at me for a really long moment. I was confused so I drank another drink to keep myself occupied._

_"I'm glad you came to scare him off." Moriarty spoke again_

_"Right. You can count on me! I wouldn't let you go with him." I said, without registering what my mouth was saying really._

_"Why not?" Moriarty asked amused, drinking his cocktail_

_"Well, for starters, he was definitely not your type." I said self-assured as if I actually knew his type._

_"Oh, no?" he raised an eyebrow, grinning even more amused. "And what's my type?"_

_I made a thoughtful face. "Well, obviously, it has to be someone more like me." I blurted out, now definitely not registering what I was saying and to whom. "Brave, hot and devilishly handsome, to be interesting for you and not let you be bored and not to forget, someone you can actually trust." I listed_

_As he was listening, his face became more and more serious._

_"I'm just fooling around. Don't mind me." I shook my head, drinking whatever was left in my glass._

_"No, you..." he cleared his throat "You have a point there."_

_"Do I?" I asked surprised_

_"You're more my type than I would wish." he said bitterly_

_I frowned and then laughed "Why would you not want me to be your type? There's no problem in that"_

_"It is when you're like me."_

_"A really clever guy?"_

_"No. A demisexual who suddenly finds himself attracted to the least convenient person." he said._

_I looked at him intensely for a moment. He was about to say something else but all I could register was that the gorgeous man in front of me, the man whom, yes, I have been kinda crushing on for the last months, admitted to being attracted to me. And in that moment all I could see was beautiful brown eyes before my lips were on his, soft and perfect as I had imagined them._

_He was startled at first, pulling away a bit. I waited wordlessly. It was not my call, not my decision. His wet eyes looked at me helplessly for a moment before he pressed our lips together again, harder this time. That was all the encouragement I needed. My hands wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer as his found their way up into my hair._

_"Should've told me earlier!" I managed to say_

_"Sebastian!" he whispered "Yes! Yes, I should've!"_

_We were making out like a couple of horny teenagers, hungry for one another._

_"Let's get out of here" he breathed and I nodded enthusiastically_

_Our hands clung together as we got a taxi, spending the whole ride back home making out and groping one another on the back seat. This time Moriarty did not get sick from being on the back seat._

_When we got to our flat I quickly kicked the door close and pinned James to it, trailing kisses down his neck, like I wanted to do for so long._

_"My room" he gasped and I grinned as I lifted him up, taking us there._

 

For understandable reasons I had to stop remembering the rest of the events from last night right at that moment lest I suddenly felt the urge to reenact them. I was blinking and staring at my boss like an idiot. He only raised an eyebrow but all I could do was gape at him with confusion. I was completely dumbstruck by my revelation, too much so to act normal. 

"Hi, boss..." I said goofy, and in my head I painfully wanted to call him Jim again. 

"Yes, welcome back, Moran. Were you daydreaming?" he asked, frowning 

I nodded slowly. 

"Okay, fine. Let's be blunt then." he said, crossing his arms together on his desk. "I am attracted to you. I admit that." I realized my lips were twisting up into a smile on their own volition. His face was unreadable as a stone. He continued. "Not such a big surprise really. You are what some would call hot. And we did spend a considerable amount of time together, you understand me better than most and are for sure the only interesting person around here. But this attraction is neither important, nor serious. The attraction will pass in a couple of weeks, same with you if you ever had considered... Well, it'll be over very quickly and what happens then? Complications. I don't want complications. You're a good employee, Moran, and I want to keep you. As a sniper and my right hand." 

He was right. I knew he was. The reason I suppressed how much I wanted, no,  _craved,_ intimacy from Moriarty for so long was exactly that. Our teamwork was perfect the way it was. We did not need to complicated or jeopardize it.

I realized Moriarty was still talking. 

"So I think we both can handle something as insignificant as some silly hormones and devote our attention to the things that _actually_ matter. Okay?" he asked, looking at me carefully as if trying to read my mind.

There was nothing for me to decide here. Of course our relationship cannot change. Of course he was still my boss and I was still his sniper. Of course there could never be anything more than that to it. So what if I remembered what happened last night? Did it help? Did it matter? It still changes nothing. I understand why Jim... why Moriarty... preferred to delete it from existence. It was a happy dream but it was time to wake up. Besides, I had him once, why would I want him again? I never wanted anyone else for more than one night. I don't do dates. I don't do relationships. One night should be enough. It always is for me. 

"Of course, boss." I smiled, this time meaning it "You're absolutely f*cking right and I agree with you completely!" 


	9. Suits, Cars and Bullets

Everything was back to normal in less than three days. I still had a few dreams of Moriarty and me but that was understandable and not really new so I decided to simply ignore it. I had slept with him already. What else could I possibly need with him from now on? 

Working together was better than ever. Somehow our mental connection seemed to grow even stronger and I could basically sense what he'd want me to do and say to clients or potential troublemakers. I could tell he was pleased with me and I must admit I was pleased with me too. 

We were still sharing the same flat - one room for him, one room for me. 

Funny enough we were both careful to walk fully dressed around one another and had mostly work-related conversations. No bonding, I guess. But oh, well. You can't chill with Moriarty.

One morning during breakfast Moriarty was looking at me head to toe. I furrowed my brow, getting annoyed at him examining me that way. 

"What?" I finally blurted out 

"Nothing." he shrugged

"There's obviously  _something._ " I said "What?"

He narrowed his eyes a bit. "Do you never wear suits?" he asked 

"I've worn suits before... I don't really-- I don't get the question." I said

Really, what kind of a question was that anyway!? What did he care if I liked wearing suits or not? It's not like there's a dress code for working for the world's only consulting criminal!

"It was only an observation." he shrugged "I've never seen you wear a suit, that's all. I was curious why." 

I pursed my lips. "Never felt comfortable in them. They're restricting." 

He only nodded, understanding. 

"So? That's all? You were just curious about me and suits?" I asked. There was still something that didn't quite fit. Moriarty never spoke words in vain. 

"Just making conversation. Why is this so surprising?" he asked 

"You never just 'make conversation'" I said "So if there's some kind of super clever plan there, or a mission that requires a suit, just quit the machinations and speak plain."

Bold! That was really bold of me! To speak to James Moriarty in that way. But I've realized that recently that's how we talked to one another and for some reason it felt natural that I'm not afraid of him. 

"Oh, Sebastian" he chuckled, shaking his head amused "Do you really think I still bother manipulating you or playing mind games on you?" 

"I don't know what's in your head." I shrugged as well

"True." he admitted "But you're closer to understanding what's in it than anyone else." 

I remained silent. What was there to say anyway? The man was probably right. I've never seen anyone truly understanding Moriarty. Maybe I didn't understand him truly either. But I was willing to try and stick around despite that and isn't this effort more valuable somehow than just understanding without even trying? 

Moriarty broke the silence. "I'd like you to wear one." he finally said 

"Sorry?" 

"A suit. I'd like for you to wear one." he repeated and I frowned

"Is there a special reason for this or--?" 

"There's a special reason." he nodded "Yes, a very special reason. I'm going to an art gallery and I'd like you to escort me. It's the sort of an event where one should wear a suit." 

Well, yes, of course, it was for a case. What did you think, Moran, that James Moriarty just wanted to check you out in a freaking suit!? And this art thing was, what, a date!? Ha! No chance! And of course, I didn't want any of that sh!t. I got what I wanted. A night with him. What else would I need from him from now on? Nothing. Of course. Nothing. One night is enough. 

"Oh." I said, trying to act normal, because everything was normal! I wasn't upset or anything. "Yeah, of course. I'll wear a suit for that." 

"Do you even own a suit?" he raised an eyebrow and I cursed him for being so clever. 

"Yeah, I can get myself a suit, boss." I rolled my eyes. 

"No. No, you can't. You probably can't tell suits apart." he said seriously but there was a spark of entertainment in his eyes that I could swear I saw! "I'll pick up the sort of suit I have in mind for you and you'll wear it next Saturday." he said 

I nodded. "Alright. Whichever suits you." 

"Ha. Funny." he gave a small chuckle and then he stared at his laptop again, working instead of eating his breakfast. 

===

I almost got shot in the head today. It was a really close call. Moriarty had a meeting. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until... He was getting out of the building, about to slide into the car when I got that gut feeling that something wasn't right. I jumped in front of Moriarty just in time to pull him down on the ground with me on top of him. We took cover behind the car. I fired a few shots but it was pointless. We needed to get away from there, I needed to get  _him_ out of there! I opened the car door and pushed him inside, his eyes wide with surprise. He looked like he was going to f*cking protest. I just ignored him and whatever he was telling me at that moment. The adrenaline was rushing through my veins, pumping inside my body and I only knew one thing - I had to get Jim out of here. And I did. I got in the driving seat, turned on the ignition and stepped on it, driving as fast as I could which was pretty fast. 

"You okay, boss?" I glanced at him a few times as I was trying to drive at the same time. "Boss! Are you hurt?" 

I didn't hear his reply, I just saw his head shake a no and that was all I needed to know. 

We got to a safe place - one of Jim's spare flats. I took him to safety there and locked the door behind us. I turned to Jim and saw his horrified face. There was no blood on him, no sign of any wounds, not even a scratch. Only his suit was a little wrinkled. So why was he so terrified? 

"What?" I panted and as I wiped the sweat off my forehead I realized why Jim was staring at me like that.

There was blood on my shirt and on my hand. I felt it on my face. What I thought was dirt and sweat turned out to be blood, sliding down my cheek, some of it getting in my mouth. I felt the irony taste and grimaced. There was no pain yet. I guess the adrenaline rush was so big I didn't even feel the pain. 

I went to the mirror to examine what exactly was the matter. An ex-soldier like me was not really afraid of some battle wounds. It was no big deal so I failed to understand why was Moriarty still nagging at me. I didn't even hear what he was saying. Just looked at my face. It was a simple scratch, nothing to worry about. It would leave a scar... but what difference does one more scar make? 

"I need to clean it and wrap it in one of those things..." I heard my voice distant, gun shots still echoing in my ears. "Bandage it!" I remembered the word "Yeah, that... I need to... do that." 

Moriarty approached me, close. I looked at him, expecting... anything really. 

"You're an idiot, Moran" he hissed in my face "Idiot!" 

"What? I f*cking saved you!" I snapped. "What was I supposed to do? Go after them instead of taking you out of there?" 

"Idiot..." he whispered, shaking his head as he turned his back on me and walked to the bedroom. 

I looked in the mirror again and saw my own confused expression reflected there. I knew what Moriarty wanted. He wanted his attackers dead. Understandable. It was not only a matter of revenge, it was an example. His enemies had to be thought not to try something like that anymore. They had to learn not to mess with Jim Moriarty.

But I also knew that at that moment I could not single handedly both get them and save Jim. It was one or the other and I believe I made the right choice. I still believed that. So if he was angry at me for saving him instead of killing those bastards, well, so be it! 

My mind was getting clearer now and I could examine my wound better. It wasn't too bad. One of the bullets had scratched the side of my head. I was lucky to be alive. The bullet had only passed close to me without actually hurting me badly. I looked for something to wash my wound with when I heard Moriarty entering the room again in haste. 

"I'll call the boys, boss, they'll take care of the--" I began but as soon as I looked up at him I felt his hand on my bicep, pulling me towards the couch and forcing me down. Not that I was putting any fight. I let him lead me wherever he wanted. 

He sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch and I saw he was carrying a first aid kit that was now resting on his lap. 

"I can do that..." I mumbled but he ignored it. 

"You're paid to protect me, not to get killed." he said calmly as he was cleaning my wound. 

It had began to hurt me now but I clenched my teeth and enjoyed the view in front of me. Moriarty's face up close, his brow furrowed in concentration as he was careful not to miss a spot, to clean everything, to dress my wound properly. I didn't know he even knew how to do that but I was impressed. He was the best nurse I ever had. 

"I don't need your sacrifices, you won't be paid extra for those, y'know." he continued and I chuckled 

"There was no sacrifice, boss." I replied "It was an accident." 

"You don't let accidents like that happen to you, Moran. That was the last time. Or do I have to fire you?" 

He was serious. I felt confusion rise in my chest. I couldn't tell what was upsetting him so much but I knew him well enough to read behind this cold mask he was trying to pull off right now. 

I remained silent, listening to his harsh words as I was feeling his warm hands gently taking care of every scratch on my face. I swallowed. 

"If you can't keep yourself alive, how am I to trust you with my own life? Hmm?" he said with deceptive calmness "If you want to remain in my service, _Sebastian_ , if you want to work for me, you have to take good care of yourself! Do you get this? Do you understand?" 

I nodded quickly. 

"Good." he said and moved away from me. "You're done. You'll be well. It's not a serious wound. Barely a scratch. You're such a baby, worrying over this." 

I wasn't worried over it! I was not even gonna use a freaking medical kit! I was just gonna wash it with water and have it over with.  _He_ was the one who was worried!, my mind screamed. But I spoke none of this out loud. 

Moriarty got up from the coffee table. "Get some rest now. We'll stay here for a while." he said "When you're feeling better we'll go to the main flat." 

I nodded again and did as he told me. 

===

That night I couldn't sleep. I was tossing and turning. If I didn't know myself I would've thought the encounter with close death made me restless. But I knew myself. I wasn't afraid of death. So what was this? Did the incident from earlier that day trigger my PTSD? It was possible...

I huffed and tried to force myself to sleep when I heard my bedroom door open. I saw a silhouette of a man entering and I jumped in bed ready to take the intruder down when I realized it was Moriarty.

"Boss...?" I whispered 

"Shh!" he said, slipping into my bed. 

"B-boss..." I muttered again confused but he wrapped himself around me and cuddled next to me like a kitten.

I could not utter another word, I could not protest. He gave no explanation, he just settled his head on my chest and closed his eyes. Soon I heard his rhythmic breathing, his arms wrapped around me, his legs entangled with mine. I wrapped my arms around him too and let him snuggle with me for the rest of the night. Very soon I was finally asleep myself. 


	10. A Piece of Art

Vague thoughts of Jim snuggling with me during the night came to my mind even before I opened my eyes the next morning. Of course I ruled that possibility out instantly as a figment of my imagination. But the more I came to, the more I realized that there was a warm body next to mine and my arms were still wrapped protectively around it. 

I opened one eye hesitantly and saw Jim sleeping peacefully in my embrace. I opened the other eye just to make sure it saw the same view. It was real. Not a dream. He really did come to my bed and we really did spent the night together, snuggled and sleeping like babies.

I blinked a few times, not quite sure how to react now when it was the morning. Do we remain this close during the day or was this just a one-night thing? ... Another one night thing... Was I supposed to pretend nothing happened? Was I supposed to forget this?

I wasn't sure if I wanted to have this conversation first thing in the morning so I shifted a bit, trying to free myself from Moriarty's tight but pleasant grip without waking him up.

I slipped out of bed reluctantly. If I wasn't so nervous about how would Moriarty react if the first thing he sees in the morning was me, I would've stayed snuggled with him in that bed a while longer, a lot longer. I was never much of a cuddler but it was a pleasant feeling being wrapped together with Jim. Snuggling Moriarty felt so good... Too good. I had to leave now or else I'd never be able to. 

I made a few careful quiet steps towards the door when I heard my boss chuckling.

"Are you sneaking out on me, Moran?" he asked. 

I froze. He sounded... not mad. Maybe even a little amused... I turned around and looked at him.

"I didn't want to wake you up, boss..." I mumbled under my breath. I felt like a guilty schoolboy, it was ridiculous!

His eyes were still shut but there was a jolly smile on his lips. "You don't have to be afraid, y'know." he drawled "Nothing happened."

Nothing happened  _this time,_ my mind supplied but I bit my lip, not really willing to have  _that_ conversation with James Moriarty. 

"Yeah, I know." I said again, wondering what to do with my hands. "I just... didn't want to wake you up." I repeated again. What else was I supposed to say?

The smile disappeared from his face and he assumed his usual ice-cold exterior.

"My bed is broken." he said flatly and got up quickly. I saw he was only wearing a T-shirt and boxers and I swallowed, looking away. "Get it fixed by tonight." he instructed me and strode off out of my room, walking right past me.  

I stayed there immovable a few more moments before I remembered to go about my day. 

===

I put on the suit that Moriarty had left for me on the couch. It's been three days since the events I last wrote about; in other words, it was the evening when Moriarty and I were going to attend that Art gallery thingy. 

He chose the suit without even needing me to do a fitting for him. I was surprised to discover that he not only found a suit that looked good on me, but he also got the right size. It was strange seeing myself in the mirror in a classy suit like this. The last good suit I ever got was picked by my ma; she used to smile at me and say her boy looked so handsome. 

I felt my eyes getting wet at the memory of ma so I blinked a few times and quickly got myself under control. I [came out of my room](https://45.media.tumblr.com/b9d6fec982cecbc5c4b2f5addb21ec3a/tumblr_ne0j6f1RID1ro95bto1_250.gif), wearing the suit and trying to look [smug](https://49.media.tumblr.com/6b31a46e09d509ca3d24a0bd0521eb01/tumblr_ne0j6f1RID1ro95bto2_250.gif) and not show that deep inside I was feeling kinda nervous and emotional. That's why I don't like wearing suits - memories of ma always fill my mind and overwhelm me, making me feel emotions I wasn't ready to control yet.  

Moriarty was already waiting for me, arms crossed on his chest, pacing in the living room. He was wearing an elegant Westwood suit as he often did. It looked really good on him. I cleared my throat to attract his attention. He looked at me and stilled for a moment when he saw me, mouth slightly open as if his jaw was slacking. He held his breath, looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

If I didn't know any better, I would've thought he was dumbstruck by the view. But then again, why would he be so affected by me in a suit? 

"Ready to go, boss?" I had to break the silence. I couldn't take him looking at me the way he did for what felt like hours. 

He blinked a few times and cleared his throat. "Yes. Yeah, sure. Ready to go." he said, fidgeting around

I opened the door for him and we walked out. I [looked at him as we walked down the hall](https://45.media.tumblr.com/7ca81210b93ca64255e868bb902b572f/tumblr_ne0j6f1RID1ro95bto3_r1_250.gif) and he [looked back, chuckling](https://49.media.tumblr.com/2b82b6713b77492f437d140bd55a2691/tumblr_mz8665bvol1svjee4o1_500.gif).

"My boy looks so handsome." Jim smiled at me 

I felt all warm inside, my heart skipping a beat.  _My boy looks so handsome._ How did he know? He probably didn't, no one could know that ma used to say that to me. I never told anyone about that! It was the weirdest coincidence ever! And the worst/best part was that it all seemed so [natural](https://49.media.tumblr.com/4a64805953d0357687e7a1b8cae40ac3/tumblr_ne0j6f1RID1ro95bto4_r1_250.gif) at that moment, it felt like we were connected, synced, as if we were an old couple in love going on a date. That was too surreal for me. Never before had I ever wanted to be in a serious emotional relationship until now. 

"You're supposed to give me back the compliment, Moran." Moriarty's amused voice snapped me back to reality 

"Right. Of course. You look handsome too." I mumbled. 

He chuckled again, shaking his head amused. 

We were already by the car and out of habit I strode towards the driver's seat when Moriarty stopped me. 

"Not tonight, Josephine." he shook his index finger at me "We're having someone else driving us today." 

I looked in the car and saw that there was a driver there, already waiting for us, wearing a uniform with a funny hat on his head and all. I frowned a bit confused but sat in the back as I was supposed to. Jim joined me on the back seat. I was really surprised that he was doing that, considering his history with back seats. I made no remark though. He was a grown man, he knew what he was doing... I hoped... 

"We're ready, Walter." he drawled and the driver started the car.

We were both silent for a while. I glanced at Moriarty a few times, wondering if he was okay. He gave no signs of nausea yet so that was good.

I cleared my throat. "Why am I here, boss?" I asked, grabbing the bull by the horns.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking out of the window.

"I was supposed to guard you but so far I feel like a..."

He turned towards me, looking at me expecting.  

"Like a..." 

"Yes?" 

A  _date!_ My brain supplied but hell, I won't say that! Don't make me say that, James Moriarty! 

"I'm not even driving the freaking car." I said instead 

"Oh, don't be upset about that." he said, the corners of his lips lifting up a bit. "Walter could do with a bit extra working hours and a bit more money." 

"Did you bring someone else to guard you too?" I asked, wondering why was I so f*cking nervous to just go out with Moriarty and enjoy the evening. 

He shifted in his seat. "No. You're still the one guarding me." he said "I'm not replacing you if that's what's troubling you." 

"Could've fooled me." I mumbled under my breath. 

"I really am not, Moran." he said, even more amused now "I need it to look natural. I don't want our presence at the Gallery to raise any suspicions. We're there as a couple, interested in the paintings. Trust me, everything here is work-related, logical and well-thought of." 

 _That's what's making me so nervous._ It felt too natural to me. Us pretending to be a couple was only supposed to  _look_ natural, not to  _feel_ natural. 

I nodded. "Sure, boss." 

"Mhm" he nodded as well and looked back out of the window.

 

When we walked into the hall there were already a lot of people there so it was kind of crowded. It wasn't my usual scene so I couldn't help frowning. Maybe I seemed a little grumpy but I couldn't force myself to look cheerful. Suddenly I felt Moriarty's hand hooking under mine and somehow that was enough to put my nerves to rest. 

 

"By the way, I had a good news for you." I said, loud enough for Moriarty to hear but quiet enough not to be heard by anyone else. It was not the right time for this conversation but I needed to feel something familiar in this whole situation. 

"Hmm? What's that?" he asked, absentmindedly 

"I found the people who attacked you the other day." I said, smugly "They're waiting for you to _'t_ _each them a lesson'"_

He paused and looked at me, observing my face for a few moments before beaming into a smile. "Good. Well done. I didn't expect anything less of you." he said pleased

I smiled too, still not feeling in my element. This whole undercover thing we were doing was definitely against my blunt nature of 'here's a target, shoot the target'. 

"So..." I said awkwardly "What is this exactly?" I asked 

"You don't frequent art events, do you, Sebastian?" he asked with a killer smile on his face. I knew well that his entire behaviour now was nothing but a pretense. The smile he was giving me was a mask, and knowing that it wasn't genuine bugged me for some reason. There was a purpose for the way he was acting towards me now and a specific goal and it was all work-related. I knew that very well. I was nothing more than a pawn in Moriarty's great game. 

I shook my head "Not really my thing,  _James._ " I said, using this opportunity to call him by his first name. _Two can play this game, Moriarty!_

He didn't seem to mind me calling him James, or even if he did, he did not show it; not even a hint of displeasure.

"It's basically like a movie premiere for paintings." he said simply, leading me further into the crowd. 

I followed his lead as he suddenly stopped us in front of a painting and leaned in closer "And this is the one we're going to steal..." he whispered in my ear.

I looked at him and saw his brown eyes sparkling, his smile bright and cheerful, his entire face glowing; and I felt my heart skip a beat. Must be the exciting prospect of stealing a painting. Yep, that must be it. No other reason for the sudden wave of happiness that flushed through my entire body, settling deep inside my heart. 


	11. Never Enough

To see Jim Moriarty on the kill was a masterpiece. And to see Jim Moriarty avenging on the people who wanted to kill him, was art. 

Of course, Jim Moriarty did little himself, other than talking. I did all the work. I had to cut through the flesh the way he told me, I had to punch the way he told me and when and where he told me. I basically was his muscle in this, which was not surprising. Still he asked for no one else but me to be there which showed tremendous trust considering that there was 6 of them and only two of us. True, they were tied down but still.

"Don't kill them." Moriarty had instructed me "We need them to take a message to their master. He's the one truly responsible for attacking me, not them. They're just dogs, Sebastian. They don't think for themselves, they don't act for themselves. They only know how to obey their master and that's it. We need to teach these dogs a lesson, we need to show them they chose the wrong master. We need to let their master know he made the most colossal mistake of his life the moment he decided to become my enemy. Do you understand?" 

I nodded. 

We kept them in one of Moriarty's warehouses. The noise of the machines was enough to prevent anyone from hearing their screams. But at the same time we were at a close enough distance to hear if any of the 'dogs' had something important to say. After all, many were ready to betray their boss in a feeble attempt to save their own skin. 

At some point during the torture I had to wonder... Was I a dog to Moriarty too? Was this what he thought of me? A dog, mindlessly following his orders? When he praised me for a job well done, was this the dog getting its treat? Suspicions rose inside my chest with each blow I gave to these bastards and unknowingly I started taking out my frustration on them. 

I guess Jim noticed that because at one point I distantly heard his voice, demanding as if giving me another order, while his hand gripped my arm tightly, almost causing me pain. 

"Moran! Moran! I said stop it! Stop!" 

Oh. So it was an order. I stopped punching Bastard #6 and took a few steps back. 

"What the hell is wrong with you? I told you I wanted them alive!" Jim hissed in my face. 

"I just..." I trailed off, giving a little unsure wave of my hands as if they could finish my sentence instead of my mouth. 

"You were beating them into a pulp!" he exclaimed

Ironic for Moriarty to be concerned. Then I realized it was not concern. It was his plan to keep them conscious to watch what was happening to them, to mind-control them into betraying their boss, or to have them survive to tell the story of what happens when you cross Jim Moriarty. 

I had lost my nerves again, lost control. And if there was anything Moriarty truly valued, it was control.

"I'm sorry, boss..." I mumbled, looking down like a guilty schoolboy. 

He said nothing more, only looked at the 6 ex-attackers for a while longer. 

"We're done here." he then said "Call someone to come take care of them - the usual way, they know what to do." he finally looked at me again "You drive me home." he ordered.

I nodded and took off my shirt. It was soaked in blood and felt really uncomfortable, not to mention suspicious if I went driving through town looking like that. I heard a surprised gasp but took little notice of it, too busy to first change my clothes. Then we were ready to go.  

===

"Is this what you're like when you flirt?" 

We were in the car, driving for nearly 20 minutes in silence and  _this_ is what Moriarty chooses to ask all the sudden. 

"Umm, what?" 

Moriarty's voice sounded even, detached.

"The secret glances and all the showing off. Is this what you're like when you're flirting?" he asked again, looking at the road. 

"I wasn't showing off..." I mumbled

"Oh, yeah? Your work is impressive." he said and then added "Not to mention your chest when you took that shirt off today." 

I frowned. "Thanks and the shirt was all covered in blood that's why I took it off..." I said defensively 

"So hot." 

His voice was lacking any emotion, too detached for me to believe he really meant it.

"Oh, ha-ha. Very funny, boss." I rolled my eyes "I get it." 

"What _do_ you get?" 

"You're making fun of me." I explained

He shook his head "I wasn't." 

I thought I heard him wrong so I just blinked, not giving a reply. 

Moriarty continued, voice trembling just a little bit. 

"You, taking your bloody shirt off, revealing that chest and those scars of yours, muscles still strained from all the punching you just did for me... might be my new fantasy." 

I swallowed, feeling my mouth going dry. What was he expecting me to say to _that_!? He was the one who forbade anything remotely more fun to happen between us and now this!? Did he even realize what him telling me these things was doing to me? 

"I umm what?" I stuttered 

He chuckled amused at my sudden uncharacteristic nervousness. 

"I didn't expect you to be so shy. Not after what I know about you and your countless conquests." 

"I-- " I was trying to find the most delicate way to put my thoughts into words "I'm not used to... this type of attention coming from you."

Another amused chuckle.

"What!?" I was getting really frustrated now  

"Are you saying my attention is unwanted?" he said, visibly struggling not to burst into laughter 

"I never said that." I replied, still not certain where this was going 

"What are you saying then?" 

"Me? What are  _you_ saying?" I snapped, gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles went white 

He shrugged and remained silent. I stubbornly remained silent too but his freaking mind game and silent treatment were already working on me, apparently, because I couldn't take it this long and I spoke again. 

"You told me you weren't gonna act on this! And now you suddenly want me shirtless!?" I blurted out, making a turn and parking the car to stare at him in furious confusion. "What do you want, Jim?" 

I called him Jim. None of his employees ever dared calling Moriarty _Jim_ but I just did. It was a slip of the tongue. One that could cause me my life but I was strangely unaffected by this prospect. I still wasn't afraid of Moriarty. Even now when he looked at me with dead eyes and unreadable face. Even now, I wasn't afraid of him. I was furious at him. So furious I wanted to jump on him, claw his eyes out, pull that soft hair of his in every direction just to mess it up and annoy him, bite down at his neck to mark him so that he'd shut the f*ck up or so that I could hear him moan my name, hold him so tight he'd have no chance of ever going away from me... It was a really complicated emotion but I felt all those things on a very deep level. 

"What do you want from me?..." I repeated, this time softer

Jim tilted his head. 

"What?" I asked

"Take us home, Moran." he said after a long pause. 

"What!? That's all you're gonna say?" 

This was ridiculous! Didn't he see how ridiculous he was!? 

"I said" his hand rested high on my thigh now, eyes fixed on me as he slowly repeated "take  _us_ home." 

For a moment I thought I was imagining things. The flicker in his eyes, the small blush on his cheek, the almost undetectable hoarseness of his voice. 

"You're not serious and this isn't funny." I said, starting the car. I was looking for an excuse to look away from him and what better reason than driving. 

"Do I sound like I'm joking?" 

"I don't know what you sound like anymore." I said, my jaw tight "But I'm not your your dog." 

He frowned. "Is this what you think of me?" 

If I have to be honest, I was not even capable to think at that moment. All I knew was that I wanted Moriarty, I wanted him so badly! But at the same time I wanted more. I wanted to be certain that I wasn't just a dog to him, that he truly valued me and all the things I did for his criminal empire. I wanted to be certain about this and no matter how much I wanted to go to bed with him, I wanted him to respect me and my loyalty to him more. It was a stupid, f*cking stupid decision. I was never so particular about my bed buddies before; never cared what they thought of me as a person. Physical attraction was always what meant the most in my previous encounters. It was different here. So I guess it was time for me to start considering the notion that Moriarty was probably different somehow. One night was not enough. One night was never enough for us. 

I remained silent, too overcome with emotions I was not familiar with, revelations I was not ready for. 

"Alright." he said.

His voice didn't even tremble. Was he really this good at acting or was I really just a meaningless way to pass the time? I couldn't think about that now. I kept driving. Neither him, nor me broke the silence.  


	12. To Hell With Plans!

The next couple of days were a nightmare. We weren't arguing, or not talking to one another or anything dramatic like that but there was definitely tension. A lot of it. There was tension when we were working, there was tension when we were getting home and even more tension when we had to stay home for the evening. 

It was annoying. It really was. Especially since we had this really important heist to plan - we were gonna plan how to steal that painting Moriarty had shown me. So imagine us planning together, trying to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, as if Moriarty didn't make a pass at me and I didn't turn him down like an idiot.

I know I was right to turn him down that night but why was I feeling so f*cking terrible then, if it was the right thing? I tried to think less and drink more. It worked miracles. Almost.

"We need an inside man." Moriarty insisted, frowning

"No, we don't, we really don't." I was just as stubborn as he was

"You always need an inside man for that sort of thing." he said expertly

"That's so not true!" 

Moriarty pursed his lips. "Okay, why can't we get a man on the inside to make things classier and more orderly?" 

I rolled my eyes "Isn't it obvious? He's gonna try to stiff us in the end." 

"You don't know the first thing about how I deal with my inside men." he shook his head

"I don't need to because I don't trust him. Or her. Or whoever the f*ck you want to get!"

"You're being unreasonable." He said, still sounding calm 

"I'm being rational." I said, still trying to appear calm. "What's wrong with just the two of us inside and a few of the others, waiting for us outside and placed on strategic places just in case something goes wrong?" 

"It can't happen with just the two of us. This is a serious thing. How can you not to get that?"

"It's more impressive if you do it with less people." I stared at him

"It's more impressive if I do it with Harry Potter's wand! Doesn't mean I'm gonna go on a suicide mission for it!" he snapped 

I pursed my lips. Moriarty took a few deep breaths, ran his fingers through his hair and face, sighed and then finally looked back at me. 

"Alright. Listen to this." he leaned in "Hear me out, okay?" his voice was soft, gentle, as if speaking to a child. "I don't want to screw this up. I actually want that painting in my possession. And it's really important for me to get it." 

I nodded to let him know I was really following him. 

"It's so important to me that I won't let anyone else touch it or do it for me, as you can see. I'm planning on doing this myself. So. We need an inside man, Sebastian." 

I knew I should've let him do it as he wanted. It was his crime, his plan, his initiative, his empire, he was the boss and I was not even sure why he still asked me for my opinion over this. But I couldn't keep my big mouth shut. 

"When he contacts your enemies to tell them he knows what Moriarty looks like, when he tries to betray you - and trust me, there are million ways to betray you - what then?" I replied "We can't risk that. Especially not so soon after the attack on you! Don't you understand that right now you're in more danger than ever! Someone was actually close to killing you!" 

"My inside man won't betray me." he said exasperated. 

"How can you know that!?" I snapped 

"Because I know how to pick them." he replied simply

I laughed hysterically. "This is ridiculous, Jim! You're actually going to risk your life because of your ego!" 

"You know what your problem is, Moran? You never trust anyone!"

"And you know  what yours is? You f*cking think everyone's your dog and would do whatever you want because of your freaking mind games!" I blurted out "Well, you're wrong! You underestimate your enemies at times and it's gonna be the death of you!"

"Oh, is it?" he raised an eyebrow

"Yeah! And what reason have I to trust anyone?" I continued "What reason have _you_ to trust anyone? With all your trust issues, I can't believe you're actually considering this!" 

He huffed.

"You let some stranger in this, I'm out." I said determined "He can betray you to that idiot mob boss who's after you. And I'm not risking your life, okay? I have a right as your bodyguard to f*cking guard you! So no, you're not trusting anyone I haven't approved beforehand."  

"Because...?" 

"Because I'm not letting you go to your death." 

I was furious and determined and it showed. Moriarty looked at me and growled. 

"What do you care?" 

I furrowed my brow. "What?" 

"If I go to my death. What do you care?" he repeated 

I opened my mouth to say something but no words came out so I closed it again. 

"I'm listening." 

I had my reasons to want Moriarty alive. I had my reasons to want to protect him and keep him safe at all times. I had my reasons to be afraid that one of his many enemies might finally get to him and shoot him in the head. I had my reasons but none of them were good to say at this moment. Until finally the _right_ reason, the  _proper_ reason, the  _official_ reason came to my mind and I blurted it out as soon as I got a glimpse of it. "It's my job." I said 

Moriarty nodded. "Mhm. You seem very passionate about your job." he said. 

I swallowed. "I like my job." I said. 

"So you keep saying." 

"Because that's how it is. It's why you hired me, isn't it?" 

He kept nodding, a sly smile creeping in the corners of his lips. I noticed it and it only enraged me more. 

"What? What is it?" I cried out

"Nothing." Jim was now grinning at me amused

"F*ck you!" I snapped 

His whole face was glowing at me now. "Down, tiger!" he chuckled 

"How can you be so careless!? Don't you see how ridiculously stupid you're acting about this whole painting?" 

"Risking my life, you mean?" he supplied, still so damn amused 

"Stop smiling at me, damn you!" I barked

"Why?" he asked innocently 

I grabbed the collar of his perfectly tailored suit and pulled him into a hungry kiss. 

He was still for a moment until I felt him kissing back, pressing his lips harder on mine. His hands quickly found their way up in my hair again and I remembered that grip of his perfectly. It was just what I wanted. I wrapped my arms around him, bringing us closer to one another and there was nothing and no one else in the world anymore! 

"You're scared for me, aren't you?" Jim groaned into my mouth 

I was too far gone to register words. 

"You're not scared  _of_ me; you're scared  _for_ me..." he continued, undressing me in a hurry. I started kissing down his neck and the sounds he made were perfection. "That time when they wanted to kill me... You  _hated_ them for it, didn't you? You hated them because they wanted to me dead..." he whispered 

"Shut up!" I groaned and he laughed, voice hoarse and thick with arousal 

I went on kissing and undressing him but then he pulled my hair - not too rough but enough to look at my face for a moment - before softly saying "I've missed you..." 

And I knew exactly what he meant. We kissed again and I took him to my bedroom. And this time both of us were sober enough to remember each and every detail of what we were doing.


End file.
